


Happy Valentine's Day, Indeed

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom!Cas, Coming Untouched, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Matchmaker Sam, Valentine's Day, pov Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: Cas is grumpy and miserable because he's alone on Valentine's Day until he gets an unexpected visitor.





	Happy Valentine's Day, Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (early) Valentine's Day!!

Castiel doesn't like Valentines Day; it's not a proper holiday. just an excuse to spend a lot of money and have a lot of sex. As far as he's concerned, if you love someone, you should show them all the time; you shouldn't need a stupid holiday to buy them gifts and make them dinner. Not that he wouldn't appreciate it if someone wanted to do those things for him - or with him - but it's not like he ever gets the chance. He would probably be less bitter about the whole day if he had someone to spend it with, but that's just the thing; he doesn't - today or any other day. Usually, it wouldn't be so bad, because he'd have his best friend and his brother to keep him company; they would sit around and watch bad horror movies and joke about being single forever. It was good, while it lasted, but couple years ago Sam met and fell head over heels for a girl in his class, and since then he hasn't been coming to their annual anti-Valentines parties, and then this year Gabe dropped out on him too. It might not have been so bad if Cas had had a chance to make other plans, but Gabriel had only dropped the bomb earlier that afternoon, and now Cas is stuck at home alone, curled up on the couch pretending, like he does, that it doesn't bother him to be completely alone on the one day of the year you're not supposed to be alone. 

Only it does; it bothers him a lot because as much as Cas hates the commercial aspect of Valentines Day, he appreciates the sentiment behind it and he would give anything to have someone to take out for dinner and watch sappy romcoms with. If he's honest with himself, there's one person in particular that he wants to cuddle up with tonight, but it makes it a little awkward when you're in love with your best friend's brother, not that Sam would care that much, but still. Besides, Dean has a reputation for being rather unenthusiastic when it comes to relationships, and Cas is in it for more than just a night of sex. He tries to convince himself that he's better off this way; that he doesn't need someone because he's fine just the way he is, but as hard as he tries, he doesn't quite believe it. People think he's cold and detached - a side effect of being Gabriel's younger, quieter brother, he suspects - and maybe that's why no one has ever shown interest in him as more than a friend, but deep down, he's a romantic at heart - a fact that Gabriel loves to tease him about at any given opportunity. 

Cas sighs, pushing all thoughts of Dean, and of Valentines Day in general out of his mind, pressing his nose back into his book. He doesn't need Dean; there's not much there to build a relationship on anyway - just a handful of run-ins that are usually because of Sam, and even fewer passing remarks when they run into each other in public. It's not that Dean avoids him, he's actually very friendly if they get the chance to sit and talk for more than five seconds, but that's the issue - they never do. Cas pushes the thoughts aside again, re-reading the page he's on for the fourth time and curling a little tighter around himself. He's got his book - specially chosen because it's his favourite and it always makes him feel better - he's got his wine and he doesn't need anything else. It's cold though, and he wishes he'd turned the heat on or grabbed a blanket before he got comfortable on the couch, but he's squished into the back corner now, and he doesn't want to move. 

Life, it seems, has other plans for him, because just as he cuddles back into the cushions, there's a knock at the door. He waits for a minute because it's probably just Gabriel, and if it is that means he's coming home to have sex which Cas will _not_ be doing tonight. He can just let himself in, Cas thinks, _lazy bastard_. After the third knock, Cas is down to two options; either Gabe is an idiot and left his keys at home, or someone is lost and at the wrong apartment. With an exaggerated groan, he slips the bookmark into his book and sets it on the coffee table, heaving himself to his feet. One leg of his sweatpants is rolled halfway up to his knee from when he got too hot earlier and he just never bothered to roll it down. He frowns down at himself, but maybe it'll make him look more pathetic if it's Gabe at the door. 

Cas crosses the living room expecting to either ignore his brother and his date, or send his unwanted visitor in the right direction, but when he yanks the door open, his heart stops and he forgets to breathe for a second. He was expecting anything from Gabriel to some lost kid at his door; the last person he expected to find standing there is Dean Winchester - beaming at him and holding up half a dozen plastic grocery bags in one hand. At first, Cas doesn't know what to do because he's dressed like a slob in his college hoody and matching sweatpants standing in front of the most gorgeous man in the world. For a few seconds, he wishes he could just curl up and die because why is Dean showing up on his doorstep on Valentine's day when Cas is least expecting it? but then it hits him; Dean is lost. 

He feels like an idiot, but he doesn't feel quite so bad about his awful choice of clothes. It's not like the building is exactly small; he's probably headed for another unit and got the numbers messed up, it's an easy enough thing to do; Cas himself got lost no less than eight times when he and Gabe first moved in. That's obviously what it is - Cas just happens to be the unlucky bastard who gets to direct Dean to his Valentine's date. He's about to ask what number Dean's looking for when Dean opens his mouth and all Cas' thoughts come crashing down around him. 

"Sammy said you might need some company tonight," he beams, "I uh- I would have planned something better, but it was kinda late by the time I got around to it, but I can make dinner?" his voice rises at the end in a question, and if Cas didn't know better, he would say he actually sounded nervous, but every other time they've spoken, Dean has always been outgoing and self-assured. He doesn't know what to say or do because he wasn't prepared for this, and something like Dean Winchester showing up at your door and offering to cook for you doesn't just happen every day. He nods dumbly, mumbling a bewildered _okay_. 

Dean makes to step into the apartment, then backtracks and rocks back on his heels, sheepishly pulling his free arm out from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of lilies. A dark flush creeps over his cheeks and he lowers his gaze as he holds them out to Cas, mumbling something that sounds like _Sam said you'd like them_. Cas' breath catches in his chest, and he mentally recalls the last half hour, trying to figure out if he passed out and is dreaming, or if he fell into some alternate dimension where Dean just does shit like this. 

"I um- I- thank you?" he stumbles, reaching out to take the flowers, "sorry, um- come in." He takes a step back, pressing his nose into the flowers as soon as Dean's back is to him. He doesn't know what part Sam had to play in this - or how much exactly, Dean knows - and frankly, right now he doesn't care, but they're going to sit down and have a long talk when this is all over. He shuts the door behind him, instinctively twisting the lock before he turns back to Dean. 

"Make yourself at home," he smiles, hoping that the swirling anxiety in his chest doesn't show on his face. 

"Thanks," Dean grins back, "mind if I use your kitchen?"

Cas shakes his head, and Dean heads for the kitchen, setting his bags on the counter while Cas occupies himself looking for something to put the lilies in. He's crouched in front of one of the cabinets in the living room when Dean comes up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder, and Cas very nearly loses his balance.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, and Cas nods, although it's a blatant lie; he still has no idea how to feel about, well, everything that's happened in the last fifteen minutes. "You sure? You seem a little shocked to see me."

"Yeah," Cas assures him, rising to his feet and facing him, "I just wasn't expecting company tonight, that's all," he gestures down to himself, "I'm not exactly dressed for it."

Dean takes a step forward and Cas' heart stops as he reaches for one of his hoody strings, "I think you look great." He's not going to make it through this night. Dean crosses back to the kitchen, and Cas follows him, an old mason jar in hand. He fills it up from the sink in the island and sets the flowers off to one side where they won't obscure his view of Dean, but are still in his line of vision. Dean's puttering away on the counter opposite, his back turned to Cas, and he stops suddenly, his shoulders dropping before he turns around to face him. 

"Is this weird?" he asks, leaning over the island on his side, "I didn't mean to interrupt your night- Sam just said you'd be on your own tonight - y'know 'cause Gabe and Kali," he shrugs, rambling a little, "I told Sam it would be weird, but he said it wouldn't be and I didn't want you to be all alone on Valentines Day of all days and -"

Cas wants to twine their fingers together and tell him that this is actually the best thing that's happened to him in months, but he settles for interrupting with a rushed, "it's not weird." Dean doesn't seem to hear him. 

"I know it's really out of the blue, and it's not the best timing, but I couldn't figure out how to ask you out before, and then when Sam said- it was too late to try and make a reservation, and I didn't know where you'd want to go, but I figured I could bring dinner to you?"

Cas sits in stunned silence, trying to work through what Dean just said because it sounded like it all just sort of spilled out without Dean meaning it to, and he's not sure if he was actually supposed to hear any of it. After considering it, and carefully wording his response, what actually comes out of his mouth is, 

"You were gonna ask me out?" If he feels awkward about it, it's nothing compared to the horrified look on Dean's face, like he hadn't realized he said that. 

"Uh, yeah," Dean admits, "I wanted it to be better, but by the time I worked myself up to it, it was kinda late, so I compromised and here I am."

Cas does his best not to wrinkle his nose when he smiles, but he fails miserably, and leans over the island toward Dean, "I can help with dinner if you want?"

"Ah ah, that's not the deal," Dean grins, reaching across to push Cas back onto his stool, "I make the dinner, you relax."

"Okay," Cas says slowly, folding his arms in front of him on the counter. He watches as Dean lays out all the ingredients on the counter - he really did bring everything, right down to a block of butter - and then looks around for something before turning back to Cas.

"You have a big pot?"

"How big?"

"Uhh," Dean shrugs, and Cas chuckles softly.

"In the cupboard to the right of the stove. You should find something in there unless Gabe's been a lazy shit again and hasn't washed them. What are you making?"

"Spaghetti," Dean shrugs, "and stuff. Nothin' special."

"No it's good," Cas assures him, pushing aside the mental image of _Lady and the Tramp_ , "I love spaghetti."

"I know," Dean admits, a little sheepishly, turning his back to fill the pot with water. He falls silent as he gets to work, and Cas watches for a little while, but more often than not he finds himself just watching Dean's face. 

He tries to figure out how he got to this point when less than an hour ago, he was sitting by himself on the couch, and now he's sitting watching Dean move around his kitchen like he's perfectly comfortable there. The answer, of course, is Sam, but he's pretty sure he's missing something because even if you're planning on asking someone out, there's a huge jump from going out for dinner and making them dinner yourself. With flowers, Cas reminds himself, _with lillies_. 

Next to no one knows what his favourite flowers are, and either Dean is really crafty or Sam's been blabbering. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, because either way, Dean went out of his way to find the flowers, not to mention pick up all the rest of the stuff to make them dinner. 

"Can I ask you something?" he says, and Dean looks up at him with a soft grin before turning back to the mushrooms he's chopping. 

"Go for it."

"Is this really what you want to be doing tonight?"

Dean chuckles softly, setting the knife down and turning to lean on the island across from Cas, "why wouldn't it be?"

"I dunno, I just thought you might have something better to do than come keep me company."

Dean purses his lips and shrugs, "can't think of anything." He pushes himself up off the island, turning back to the opposite counter, "do you wanna find us something to watch while we eat? Dinner shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Sure," Cas nods, slipping off his seat. He's glad to have something to do with himself because he feels guilty just sitting and watching while Dean does all the hard work, and he flops down on the couch, digging the remote out from between the cushions. 

He leans back against the couch, glancing up at Dean as he flicks on the TV. As soon as he knows he's not being watched, he pulls his phone out to text Sam. He only gets as far as _explain yourself_ before Netflix loads and insists he pick a user. Cas frowns at the TV and sends the text anyway before selecting his own account.

"What do you want to watch?" he calls into the kitchen, anxiously aware of his phone buzzing on the arm of the couch. 

"Anything. Pick whatever you want."

"Helpful," Cas mumbled, browsing the recently added section. 

They spend the next twenty minutes going back and forth discussing the best and worst aspects of various movies, but there's not much they seem to agree on - at least nothing that's readily available. They find a commonality in horror movies, coincidentally, but Dean insists that he and Sam and Gabe can watch horror movies every other Valentines Day, but this is _their_ day and they're not watching a horror movie on Valentines Day. 

"So, here's an idea-" Dean starts, and Cas' eyes flick up to find him wiping his hands dry on a dish towel, "last year I was stranded with Sam and Jess and she made us watch Dirty Dancing." Cas gives him a look because he may not know Dean well, but that seems like the last thing he would suggest. "What?" Dean scowls, then adds, like some sort of explanation, "Swayze."

"Yeah," Cas huffs, grinning despite himself, "yeah, sounds good." He finds the movie quickly and leans back against the couch, waiting. Dean's still bustling around the kitchen, muttering about ten more minutes, and Cas takes the opportunity to duck into his room for a minute. He flops down on the bed and pulls out his phone, immediately selecting Gabriel's name.

_> > if you're coming home early, text me first. Or Call. If you just show up I will kill you_

_**< < Really Cas? In the living room?** _

_> > Seriously. Text me first._

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and takes a second to collect himself before heading back out into the living room. If he thought Dean showing up at his door was going to be the only surprise of the night, he was clearly mistaken. Everything on the side tables and the coffee table has been cleared off, and in its place there are candles on the side tables and in the center of the coffee table. There are two plates of spaghetti and a large bowl of salad to one side, and Dean's just coming in from the kitchen with another plate of what Cas can only assume is cheesy garlic bread. 

"You mind grabbing us a couple drinks?" Dean asks, and Cas nods dumbly, moving cautiously toward the kitchen. As he reaches into the cupboard, he finds that most of the dishes Dean used are already washed and sitting in the drying rack. 

"I'm not gonna come into your house and leave you with a mess," Dean grins, sipping his drink. Cas presses play on the movie, and they eat mostly in silence. 

It turns out Dean is actually an amazing cook, and Cas is starting to realize that the Dean he thought he knew is actually much different, and he's not upset about it. He would never expect Dean to be the type to cook dinner and drink wine, but he seems perfectly content, grinning over at Cas every so often to make sure he likes it. It's nice, having him there, and Cas is glad for the first time since finding out, that Gabe isn't home. 

"What?" Dean asks, and when Cas looks up at him, there's a playful grin spreading across his face.

"Nothing," Cas mutters, looking back at his food. 

"Fine," Dean mock-huffs, "keep your secrets." Cas just offers him a wide smile and turns back to the TV and his wine. 

They finish eating and Dean tries to take their dishes away, but Cas stops him, insisting he sit and finish the movie, and Dean reluctantly agrees, though when Cas hands his glass to him, he settles back into the couch quite comfortably. Somewhere along the way, the bottle of wine ends up on the coffee table, and the space between them on the couch seems to disappear as the night goes on. Cas is well into his second glass of wine, and he's leaning precariously into Dean's space, their shoulders nearly touching where they're pressed against the couch. It's not uncomfortable, but it would be a lot more comfortable if Cas was brave enough to just go for it and lean against Dean's shoulder. 

It catches him off guard when Dean's arm slips around his shoulders, pulling him in and whispering a soft, _relax_. Cas shuts his eyes, settling into the warmth of Dean's side, and he tips his head down, resting it on Dean's shoulder as gentle fingers brush down his arm. 

"Shoulda done this a long time ago," Dean hums, and Cas is inclined to agree with him. It's a weird sort of comfortable, considering the short amount of time the two have really had to get to know each other, but when Cas cuddles up into Dean's side he hasn't felt more comfortable with anyone else.

♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

The next time Cas checks his phone, it's late - later than he was intending to stay up before Dean showed up - and there are three unread messages from Sam that he chooses to ignore for the time being. He's paying next to no attention to whatever's on the TV - he doesn't even remember putting this movie on, Dean must have chosen it - but Dean doesn't seem to be focused either, so he figures the movie can't be too great. Dean's drifting off next to him, and Cas doesn't want to be the one to call an end to this night, especially not when Dean's nose is pressed into his hair, ruffling it with every soft breath, but it's late and he doesn't want either of them to fall asleep on his shitty couch.

"You should get some sleep," Cas says, resignedly.

Dean mumbles a soft "hm?" and gives him a sleepy grin, "yeah, you're probably right. I have work in the morning." 

"Dean, it's two am."

Dean just shrugs, then slips back into his spot against Cas' right side, and for a few minutes, Cas lets him, until he has to push Dean up before they both fall asleep on the couch. 

"We have to clean the dishes," Dean mumbles, into Cas' collarbone, and Cas shuts his eyes and inhales slowly.

"I'll do them in the morning. You have work, I don't."

"Okay, alright, for real this time," Dean mumbles. He pushes himself up off the couch and Cas follows him to the door. 

Dean pulls the door open and stands in the doorway for a second like he's not totally sure he wants to go, and Cas will take him back in a second if he changes his mind. 

"You're sure you're okay with the dishes?"

"I'm fine, Dean, I think I can manage two plates."

"And two glasses," Dean grins. He pauses for a second before leaning in and kissing Cas' cheek, the heat fo his breath sending tingles down Cas' spine. "I'd really like to see you again if that's okay?"

"Yeah," Cas breathes. He pauses and then words are falling out of his mouth before he can think better of it, "you know, if you don't want to drive you could stay here tonight- we could make up a bed on the couch or you could stay with me."

"As much as I would love to, and believe me, I would-" Dean shakes his head, "I don't think it would be a good idea," he inhales slowly, giving Cas a lopsided grin, "I don't think I could keep my hands off of you."

"That sounds terrible," Cas deadpans, and Dean huffs a laugh, bending down to press their lips together softly, just briefly, and Cas shuts his eyes, inhaling slowly as Dean's mouth moves against his own. "But you have to work," he says as Dean draws away.

"Yeah," Dean breathes, "early"

"Another time then," Cas hums, biting his bottom lip and grinning at the way Dean subconsciously licks his lips. 

"Another time," Dean agrees, but he's already leaning back in, and when his lips press against Cas' this time, they're firm and steady like he has no plans to go anywhere. Dean parts his lips and Cas opens to him immediately, kissing him deeply and sliding a hand up into Dean's hair, twisting his fingers through sandy locks. 

Dean braces himself on the doorframe with one arm, curling the other around Cas' waist an pulling him in closer. 

He tastes like wine, and he's warm and solid against him, and Cas still has to remind himself that this is real; this is Dean, not just some dream, which seems a lot more likely. There's the sound of someone clearing their throat from the hallway, and Dean breaks away, looking over his shoulder, then he grins back at Cas sheepishly, pulling the door shut behind him as he kisses him again. 

"So I was thinking," Dean hums, breathless, as he noses at Cas' jaw and presses kisses just below his ear, "your offer from earlier? That still on the table?"

"I think so," Cas smirks, and Dean is quick to wipe the expression off his face, sucking at the skin just under Cas' jaw, and slipping both hands down to cover his ass. 

He walks Cas backward down the hall, and Cas pushes his bedroom door open, letting Dean kick it shut behind them. He smooths his hands up Dean's stomach, slipping under his shirt and pressing his fingertips into the smooth skin over his hips as Dean hums his approval, shifting to shrug off his flannel and tug his t-shirt over his head. 

Cas draws back with Dean's arms still around his waist, taking a moment to appreciate the soft beauty that is Dean Winchester. He trails his fingers up his stomach and Dean breathes in raggedly, arching into the touch and gasping as Cas' fingers run over his nipples. Cas touches them again, pressing the pads of his fingers against the nub, and this time Dean's hips shift forward, pushing against him. 

"You're beautiful," Cas mutters absentmindedly, mouthing at the skin over Dean's shoulder and moving down his chest. Dean inhales above him, but whatever he might have been saying is drowned out as Cas flicks his tongue at Dean's nipple and a ragged moan rips from his throat. It does nothing but spur Cas on, and he reaches for Dean's pants, popping the button on his jeans and tugging the zipper down without hesitation. 

Dean's fingers wind through his hair, even before Cas sinks to his knees, dragging blunt nails against his scalp. Cas hums his approval, pushing into the touch as he tugs Dean's jeans down over his hips and slowly down over the swell of his ass, nosing at the vee of his hips and sucking at his hip bone. Dean jerks and twitches, and Cas can feel the silky brush of his cock against his cheek and his jaw, but he carefully avoids touching it intentionally, choosing instead to draw this out for as long as Dean will let him. Dean works tomorrow, and he'll be exhausted, but Cas figures a good orgasm and a free lunch will make up for it. 

He sucks hard at Dean's hip, shutting his eyes to focus on the rough tug of his hair and the shaky moans and groans that fall from Dean's lips. He flicks his tongue out, tasting the salty-sweet of Dean's skin, and moves down past his hip, nipping at the fleshy part of his thigh. _God_ , he could spend an eternity just touching Dean and drawing those sounds from his lips, but they don't have the time tonight, and in the back of his mind Cas thinks _another time, then_ as he turns back to Dean's stomach and flicks his eyes up to look at him. 

He regrets it the second he tips his head back because Dean looks absolutely wrecked with his head thrown back and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He's breathing heavily and Cas' cock throbs impatiently against his thigh, aching for any contact. Cas slips a hand over himself, squeezing the base of his cock as he sits back on his heels, his free hand on the back of Dean's thigh to pull him forward. Dean steps out of his jeans, and when his cock bumps Cas' jaw, it's wet, smearing pre-come over his cheek as he hips jerk forward. 

Cas draws back, taking in the length of Dean's erection, and flicking his tongue at the head. Dean gasps and his hips press forward, pushing the head of his cock between Cas' lips, and Cas groans at the taste of him, swiping his tongue over the head and swallowing the collected pre-come. He slides a hand back over Dean's ass, encouraging the faint rock of his hips, and Dean's cock slips between his lips, pushing in slowly and drawing back with measured movements, but when Cas sucks at the head, taking Dean down until his cock hits the back of his throat, Dean finally gets the picture. 

He gives a few test thrusts, increasing his speed to see what Cas can take, and when Cas just holds steady, cupping his balls and palming himself through his sweatpants, he gives in entirely. He fucks Cas' mouth quick and hard, holding his head and slipping in uneven thrusts between his lips. Dean's big, spreading Cas' lips with every thrust, and it only serves to rile him up even more. Cas can't help but moan around Dean's length, his own hips jerking forward seeking any sort of friction. 

Dean's hips stutter, and he pushes forward slowly, sliding his cock along Cas' tongue before pulling back even more slowly, letting the head of his cock drag over Cas' lips before he pulls away. He drops back onto the bed, panting and biting his lip, and Cas has never seen anything more arousing in his entire life. He shuffles forward, sitting back on his heels between Dean's knees, and runs his hand up his thighs, curling his fingers around Dean's cock and giving him a playful tug. 

" _Oh fuck, Cas_ ," Dean huffs, "why are you still dressed?" He reaches down, catching Cas' lips in a burning kiss as he tugs the hem of his hoody up and drags it over his head. "Better," Dean hums against him, drawing back to look at him. A subtle, sly smile crosses his face, and he hauls Cas to his feet, curling his hands around the jut of Cas' erection. 

Cas whimpers as his hips roll into the touch, and he bends to grasp Dean's shoulders to steady himself. Dean mouths at him through his sweatpants and Cas' hips twitch against his lips, desperate and needy for every touch. Dean's hands fall from his hips, curling instead around the waistband of his sweatpants and yanking them down. He wastes no time getting them down around Cas' ankles and then tugs him into his lap, sliding his hands down his back and spreading his ass. 

Dean rocks his hips, looking up through his eyelashes at Cas, and as their cocks rub together, his mouth drops open in the most beautiful groan. Cas surges forward at the same time as Dean leans back, and they tumble back onto the bed. Dean takes the opportunity to slip his fingers back into Cas' hair, bringing their lips together in a sloppy kiss as he rolls them over, one leg hooked over Cas' hip. Dean drags his cock against Cas' burying his face in his neck and mumbling into his skin. Most of it is incoherent babbling, but Cas catches a few choice words and the urgency in his voice sends electricity through him.

He curls his arms around Dean's shoulders, tangling their legs together to steady himself, and rolls his hips in slow rotations, moaning with every upward thrust. Dean bites at his shoulder, his jaw, his lips, bucking his hips hard and fast as they rut against each other. He slides one hand down Cas' back, pressing between his cheeks and the initial touch is unexpected, but when Dean presses his finger against his rim, Cas' entire body jerks forward and presses back into the touch. 

" _You like that baby_?" Dean breathes, dragging his teeth along Cas' jaw, "you like when I touch you?" he shuts his eyes, pressing his nose into Cas' cheek and they moan in tandem as he thrusts up hard against him, "you wanna be fucked baby? wanna feel my cock inside you, pressing into you?" Dean's thrusts get slower and longer, and Cas can't help but wonder if he's just talking for him or just for the sake of it, but every one of Dean's words is like a hot spike of lust that goes straight through him. 

He manages a strangled, " _yes, Dean fuck-_ ", before Dean pushes him off of him impatiently, rolling him onto his stomach and sliding his palms up Cas' back. Cas hums and pushes his face into the bed, shifting his hips as Dean runs his fingers between his cheeks. He moans as Dean's teeth drag over the curve of his ass, and then he's being spread open and warm breath dusts over him.

Dean flicks his tongue experimentally, and even the barest touch has Cas pressing up for more; but he doesn't tease him for long, and when Dean gets down to it, he's sloppy and enthusiastic and Cas can barely keep up with the sensations, fisting his hands in the sheets and giving himself over completely. Dean tugs his hips up and Cas manages to pull his knees up under him before Dean's tongue is pressing into him, hot and wet and fucking amazing. 

Cas' breath catches in his throat when Dean's tongue is replaced by his finger, pressing against the ring and pushing through. He doesn't push very far in, but then his tongue is back, flicking at Cas' hole where it's stretched around Dean's finger and Cas reaches back, brushing his fingers down Dean's thigh. From where he's positioned, Cas can just barely reach his side table, so he stretches forward pulling the drawer open, and Dean pulls out, sprawling over him, his cock pressing hot and heavy between Cas' cheeks. 

"You want somethin' darlin'?" he hums, running his lips over the curve of his ear. Cas doesn't get a chance to reply before Dean's grabbing the bottle of lube and rocking his hips against him. Dean pushes himself up, sitting back on his heels and squeezes Cas' ass, pushing his cheeks apart with his cock and slipping against him. He indulges himself for a couple minutes as Cas rocks his hips against the bed, pressing his cock into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure. 

When Dean finally touches him again, his fingers are slick and he pushes in slowly, but all the way, and when he draws back, all the breath goes out form Cas' lungs. He presses his cheek against the sheets, pushing back onto Dean, and he gets a soft chuckle in return, but Dean takes the hint and picks up the pace, though not by much.

Cas' is aching and desperate by the time Dean pulls out, and he presses his hips back encouragingly. He folds his arms under his head, and he can hear the sound of Dean slicking up his cock, which just adds to his impatience, and he rolls his hips forward, groaning at the rough drag of the sheets. 

Dean presses a hand to the small of his back and his cock presses against Cas' hole. He slides in with no resistance, and Cas groans as he bottoms out, circling his hips. Dean moans in response, and his hands slide up Cas' back, gripping his shoulders for support as he thrusts forward, and Cas pushes his hips back up to meet him. Dean fucks him hard, and Cas presses his face into the sheets, muffling the stream of moans and grunts as Dean slams into his prostate. 

His hands smooth up Cas' back, fingers dragging against his skin, and it just makes Cas even hotter. Sweat prickles at the back of his neck, and heat rises up in his cheeks, tinting his skin. He can picture Dean above him; eyes dark with lust and panting - fuck, it's enough to make his dick twitch against the mattress and he can feel pre-come leak onto the sheets, but he can't be bothered to care about the mess when Dean leans down over him, biting the back of his neck and breathing against his ear. 

"Cas, baby, you are so fucking beautiful, so fucking sexy."

Cas groans and pushes his ass up, rocking his hips and fucking himself on Dean's cock. Dean lets out a shuddering gasp and drapes himself over Cas' back, thrusting evenly as he wraps one hand around Cas' shoulders and pulling him back. Cas shudders, clutching at the sheets.

"I want to see you," he manages, pushing his shoulders up, and Dean retracts, sitting back on his heels, and wrapping both arms around Cas' chest. He tugs him up and Cas shifts to straddle his lap, dropping his head back onto Dean's shoulder. 

Dean rocks up into him, running his hands over Cas' chest and dragging his fingers up the underside of his cock, "you're wet, baby," he purrs, slipping his fingers through the pre-come. Cas bucks up into the touch and Dean's breath hitches in his ear as he seats himself again, rocking back onto him. 

"Let me see you," Cas breathes, pressing his nose under Dean's jaw. He pushes himself up slowly, lifting off Dean's cock and turning to face him. "Come here," he says softly, and Dean wrinkles his nose, shuffling over in front of him and kissing him roughly, but Cas just smirks against his lips and pushes him back against the bed. 

When Dean looks up at him, his expression is dark and wanting, and _fuck_ he's stunning like this. Cas climbs up over him, bending down to kiss him and reaching back to stroke his cock, before positioning himself so Dean presses slowly into him. Dean inhales sharply, and his eyes flash up, holding Cas' gaze as he nudges his hips forward. Cas keeps his eyes on Dean's as he sits back on him, groaning at the way Dean catches his bottom lip between his teeth as Cas seats himself. 

He rocks his hips experimentally and Dean's hands slide up to his hips, holding him down as he thrusts up to meet him. Cas starts with his hands planted on Dean's chest, but as he gains confidence, building up a steady rhythm, he leans back, bracing himself on Dean's shins. His cock is thick and red, bobbing against his abdomen as he rocks his hips and rides Dean's cock. He's desperate for any type of friction, but he's already getting close, and he doesn't want to come too soon. He lifts a hand, jerking himself a couple time before it's too much and he slips his hand up Dean's stomach refocusing his attention. 

Dean grabs his hand, twining their fingers together as he fucks up into him and Cas shifts his hips so Dean's cock is pressing against his prostate, sending shockwaves through him with even the tiniest movements. He knows he's pushing his luck because he's so fucking close already, but he reaches up and runs a hand up his cock, stroking himself slowly because he doesn't want to come. Dean reaches up to touch him, but Cas bats his hand away, chasing the phantom heat of his own hand. 

"I can't," Cas rasps, "I don't wanna come."

"You close, baby? God, I wanna see you come." He pushes his hands up Cas' thighs, gripping his hips hard and bucking his hips hard. Cas gasps as Dean hits his prostate again and he falls back onto his hands, fisting his hands in the sheets. 

" _Fuck_ ," he groans, "Dean, I can't- I'm not gonna-" his hips jerk forward as a bead of pre-come rolls down the length of his cock and Dean's fingers dig deeper into his hips. Cas' blood boils, and he's so fucking hot, his hair matted against his forehead and his shins sticking to the sheets. He rocks his hips hard, fucking himself on Dean's cock and biting down hard on his bottom lip. If he touches himself now, he's gonna come; he's right on the edge, and the feeling just builds and builds and then Dean drives into him again and he's falling. 

He moans shamelessly as he comes, his cock spurting hot and wet against his stomach, and fuck it's so fucking good he doesn't even have time to think about the fact that he's not even touching himself. He expects it to be over as quick as it starts, but it just keeps going, and Cas' thighs are shaking uncontrollably as Dean's hands slide down, squeezing his legs so hard Cas is sure he'll leave bruises. 

Dean looks up at him like he's fucking mesmerized, bringing one hand up to wrap around Cas' lingering erection. He's oversensitive, but he slips through Dean's fingers so easily, and he can't help thrusting forward into the tunnel of Dean's hand. He meets Dean's gaze again and runs his hands up Dean's arms as he fucks into him hard and fast. Dean pulls his knees up driving up hard and burying himself deep as he comes. His legs shake and his fingers dig into Cas' thighs. He grunts and groans, muttering about how beautiful Cas is, and how perfect he is, and Cas just goes along with the ride. 

He's still leaning back on his hands when Dean slips his arms around his waist and tugs him back down against him. Cas goes easily, but his left calf tweaks uncomfortably as he groans as Dean kisses him again. They lie together for a long time after Dean pulls out, happy to just curl up around each other. Dean touches him everywhere; running his hands over Cas' back and shoulders, pushing his fingers into his hair and caressing his cheek. 

When Cas shifts, his calf pulls again, and he winces, wrinkling his nose as he rolls off of Dean onto his side. 

"You okay?" Dean asks, looking at him anxiously. 

"I'm fine, I think I just pulled a muscle."

"Want me to rub it for you?" he asks, leaning back in over him again, and Cas just presses a hand to his chest with a smile.

"You need to sleep Dean, I'll be okay."

Dean huffs a soft laugh, "we should maybe deal with this first," he says, gesturing to the mess that is both of them. Cas nods, and he sits up, moving to get up, but he winces again, and Dean catches his arm, pulling him back down. 

"Don't, I got it."

Knowing he's not going to win this, Cas lies back against the pillows, waiting for Dean to get back, and when he does, he straddles Cas' thighs. He cleans them both up, and when he moves to go back to the bathroom, Cas takes the washcloth from him and chucks it into the corner of the room. Dean smiles at him and flops down on his back next to him, their arms pressed against each other. 

Cas shifts so he can lay his leg over Dean's, and he turns his head to face him, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's shoulder, "I didn't even know I could do that," he mumbles, and Dean pulls a face.

"What, pull a muscle?"

"No," Cas huffs, "come like that."

"Yeah," Dean breathes, "that was fuckin' hot." 

Cas chuckles softly, and Dean twines their fingers together, "wish we would've done this ages ago."

"We can do it again, if you want."

"Right now?" Dean smirks, and Cas huffs a laugh, looking back up into the dark.

"No. You have to sleep sometime."

"Another time, then," Dean hums.

"Yes, Dean, whenever you want." He smiles to himself as Dean rolls into his side, and kisses him softly again. Cas gives himself into it momentarily, reveling in the warmth of Dean's mouth, and the slide of his lips against his own, but he's ultimately the one to reign it in again, kissing the tip of Dean's nose before rolling onto his back. Dean squeezes his hand, and they fall silent, an unspoken _goodnight_ lingering in the soft huffs of breath. 

"How long?" Dean asks, out of the blue, long after Cas thought he'd fallen asleep. 

"Dean, you work in, what? Three hours? Go to sleep."

Dean shifts, presumably checking his phone is his response is anything to go by, "four," he corrects, "but seriously."

"Seriously what?"

He sits up, releasing Cas' hand as he props himself up on his elbow, "the only reason I worked up the nerve to come here tonight is because Sam broke down and told me you had a thing for me."

_Of course he did._

"Fucking Sam," Cas mutters, and Dean huffs a laugh, reaching over to brush the hair off of his forehead.

"How long?"

"Always?" Cas says, talking to the ceiling, rather than facing Dean directly. 

"What do you mean, always?"

"I mean always," he sighs, tilting his head to read the expression on Dean's face, "since the first time I met you that night at Sam and Jess' Halloween party."

"I didn't think you'd even remember that."

"I do," Cas shrugs and Dean seems content with that answer, resting back against the bed and curling up against Cas' side. Cas has just closed his eyes when Dean pipes up again, and he's starting to wonder if it's even worth trying to sleep tonight.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Three hours, Dean."

"Happy Valentines Day."

♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

Dean is gone by the time Cas wakes up the next morning, but Cas takes that as a good sign because it means he probably made it to work on time. There's a note on his side table thanking him for an amazing night, with Dean's number scrawled at the bottom, and he grins to himself, flopping back against the mattress.

When he does eventually haul himself out of bed, he forces himself into the shower and heads into town because Dean made him dinner last night; the most he can do is take him lunch at work. He pulls out his phone, bypassing the messages from last night to text Sam and get the address for the salvage yard Dean works at. 

Even via text message, Sam seems way too pleased with himself as he delivers the address, and Cas locks his phone, ignoring it as it buzzes again in his pocket. 

He picks up soup and sandwiches from a local cafe and heads down to _Singer's_. He's exhausted, but he knows Dean must be feeling worse, so he presses on. When he arrives on-site, he gets directions to where Dean's working, and heads over to find him. He's pretty sure there are, or should be, laws against doing manual labour on three hours sleep, and he makes a point of telling Dean when he finds him. 

When he does find him, Dean's working with another guy and he looks like shit, like he's struggling to stay awake, but when he spots Cas, his face breaks into a wide grin, and he says something inaudible to his coworker before sauntering over in Cas' direction. 

"Good morning, beautiful," he grins, sliding his arms around Cas' waist. 

"Good morning," Cas smiles, "I brought lunch if you have time?"

"Yeah, I could go for lunch. I haven't eaten anything because I woke up late."

" _Dean_ ," Cas scolds, but Dean just shrugs at him and leans in to kiss his cheek, "I woke up late- you're lucky I made it here at all, I didn't want to get out of bed," he leans in close, breathing against Cas' ear, "you should've seen the guy I woke up next to."

Cas' cheeks burn, and Dean winks at him as he draws back, taking Cas' hand and heading for a small covered shelter. He sits down next to him as Cas unpacks their lunch. 

They sit and eat mostly in silence, but Dean rests his hand on Cas' thigh, and it stays there throughout their meal. Afterward, Cas is just packing up the garbage when Dean presses a hand on his arm, slipping down to wind their fingers together again. 

"So I was thinking," he starts, "if you're not busy, maybe another time could be tonight?" Cas smirks at him, and Dean grins back, "what do you think?"

"I think you're sleep-deprived," Cas chuckles, "but if you still want to come over when you're finished here, Gabe goes to work at four."

"Perfect," Dean smiles, "I'll see you at four."

" _Dean_ ," Cas starts, but then Dean dips down and kisses him chastely, "you should have a nap first."

"I will," Dean grins, shifting to lean in closer until his breath dusts against Cas' skin, "I'll have a nap _after_."

"After?" Cas asks, cocking an eyebrow, and Dean slips off the bench, kissing the top of his head.

"I gotta get back to work, I'll see you at four," he winks as he walks away and Cas wonders if maybe it's time to text Sam and thank him for giving Dean a push in his direction.


End file.
